


The Only House That's Not On Fire (Yet)

by doritoarts



Category: Luigi's Mansion (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Yearning, amadeus has adhd, first person POV, implied mutual crushing, implied repression of neurodivergency, lemon demon references, so does the author, so much fucking yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25848652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doritoarts/pseuds/doritoarts
Summary: Amadeus has got it bad.
Relationships: Clem/Amadeus Wolfgeist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	The Only House That's Not On Fire (Yet)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on notebook paper during a power outage and now that I've got power I decided to type it out, with minor revisions. Please enjoy and be sure to comment!

No, no, no. This cannot be happening. I, Amadeus Wolfgeist, refuse to let it. 

… And yet, here we are. 

I don’t think I could tell you how exactly it started. Maybe it was his persistence, or perhaps that smile. Maybe it’s his laugh. He does have an adorable laugh. Whatever it is, it’s allowed that mechanic, that  _ simpleton _ mechanic, to steal my heart. Oh, how I love him, and oh, how I hate that I love him.

I was never fond of letting people get close in any way, no one’s stuck around for long, after all. Either death came knocking at their door all too soon, or they took off their rose lenses and left me in the dust. But maybe, just maybe, this could be different. I’m very much unsure as to which is worse. 

It seems I have a heart like a fly, undesirable, drawn to the unwanted, and easy to grind into the dirt. I suppose it’s just one of my many curses, I never was a lucky man. If I had one wish, it’d be to get rid of that accursed heart of mine entirely. Maybe it’s selfish, but feelings have done me far more harm than good. Or maybe I’d keep it all around, it could be worth it. I’ve been oh-so indecisive lately, it’s been strangely regular ever since I fell for that mechanic. What else has been strangely regular is how well the thought of intimacy between the mechanic and I settles with me. For Grambi’s sake, I don’t even know his name, yet I’m stuck like this. I lie awake on hot summer nights thinking of him until the heat and my exquisitely knotted up feelings make me sick to my stomach. I feel like I’m one big joke, and the punchline is that there is no punchline. 

Oh, how I wish that  _ something _ out of the ordinary (even for this hotel’s usual bizarre, oxymoron be damned) would happen, I need to get my mind off of you-know-who before I do something idiotic, like introduce myself. I hope that I can keep ignoring him until the repulsively beautiful, ever-so nauseating feeling people call love stops coating my insides and stealing breath I don’t even need with the yearning it stirs. That’s my first option, the logical option. The  _ smart _ option. 

… Or, for the first time in two-hundred and twenty-nine years, I could take the second route. I could be stupid. 

  
I could introduce myself, strike up a conversation, actually speak to him. If it goes well, good for me. If not, I suppose it’s what I deserve for loosening the ironclad grip I’ve kept on my impulse control. The mind is a double-edged sword, it provides me with the creative liberty needed for compositions with beauty vast enough to bring those not likeminded to tears, but without the daunting and draining effort needed to keep in check, I’m rendered an overemotional fool. The most difficult part is trying to keep myself still whenever I’m happy, or sad, or angry, or overwhelmed, or anything at all, for that matter. Trying to stay still when every bit of you wants to move about is a painful and emotionally draining experience. In fact, everything I do to keep myself in check feels like an outdated and almost unnecessary restriction. Perhaps I could loosen up. Just a little. Perhaps I  _ should _ loosen up. I think I’ve outgrown an inhibition or two, what is (un)life if not unpredictable, after all? I think I’ve made up my mind now, it’s been weeks, this is a risk I’m finally willing to take.    
  
Tomorrow, I learn your name, and you’ll learn mine. 


End file.
